


That's amore

by enjoltathelstan



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Combeferre is disappointed, Courfeyrac creeps, Crack, Enjolras is not ashamed, Friends AU, M/M, Marius isn't straight for a couple of seconds, Oblivious Enjolras, Pining Grantaire, That's it, basically Enjolras is hot and everybody knows, enjolras is 21, especially r, grantaire is probably like 29 or smt, half way in I found out that I'm not funny, okay this was supposed to be e/r, prison is mentioned a couple of times, that didn't work out, that's the whole story, this was also supposed to be crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:13:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3702751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjoltathelstan/pseuds/enjoltathelstan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire gets a job raise. That means two things. More money and an assistant manager. Enjolras comes in for an interview. Grantaire finds out that he is a really bad interviewer. Things only go south from there. But in his defence, Enjolras was the personification of beauty and he was right in front of him and there was only so much he could handle.</p><p>Or:<br/>A Friends AU where Grantaire falls a little in love. Enjolras is very hot. Combeferre is a very helpful friend. Courfeyrac is not. Jehan is a very good at massaging. Marius is a poor straight boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's amore

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I admit that this fic is not really E/R? I will shamelessly say that I just wanted an excuse to write about Enjolras' dashing looks. I also thought this would be a splendid idea because I feel like all the Amis are probably secretly (or not so secretly) in love with Enjolras? I don't know, he's just so beautiful and I feel like I haven't read enough about it so I took the matter into my own hands.  
> This is absolutely inspired (pretty much identical) to episode 4 of season 7 of Friends. Shoutout to all the Friends fans out there who understood the reference.  
> BY THE WAY all of the Amis are Grantaire's friends in this fic? So I guess Enjolras doesn't have any friends?  
> Oh, and I know that the topic of R and E's actual first names is controversial but I just picked my favourites and hope you won't be bothered by them :)

Everything seemed to happen out of the blue. He had woken up one morning and gone to work, only to find out that he had suddenly gotten a very generous raise from his boss. He highly suspected it was because he had walked in on him and his assistant that one time, but one must not hate the player, only the game.

What this meant for Grantaire was that not only more money coming his way, but also that his rank in the office was now so high that he would need an assistant manager. His job had always been well paid, and rightly so, because there really were a lot of things that Grantaire had to do.

The enterprise he worked at was the heart and soul of one of the best fashion magazines in the city. It was Cosette who had gotten him his job when he turned up one day, broke and nearly homeless. At first Grantaire had been put in the role of reading over articles, but as soon as his artistic talent came shining through, he was also put in the role of designing thing here and there, fixing layouts and editing photos. Only a year after that happened, when he was back on his feet and living in a nice studio apartment, their beloved purchasing manager quit, leaving them all hopeless for a couple of days. Their boss had in his desperation been looking through the résumés of all the workers when he came across Grantaire's. 'Purchasing manager at Starbucks' it had said somewhere amongst his long line of ex-jobs, sticking out like a sore thumb. When he confronted Grantaire about it, it became painfully obvious that his boss did not know the difference between ordering a few bags of coffee and organizing, purchasing and shipping out Summer-, Autumn-, Spring- and Winterlines to stores in multiple countries.

If somebody asked Grantaire whether he found more exciting, this new raise or the fact that he was allowed an assistant manager, he would have immediately claimed the former. But, although he would've never admitted it, the truth was that the idea of an assistant manager had been enough to keep him awake the whole night. Maybe it was a bad night to pull an all-nighter, seeing as his first interview was already set the next morning, but it didn't help that every time he thought about that the only thing that seemed to stick was _first interview._ To look for an _assistant manager._ For the first time in his life he was sitting at the giving end of the table.

When the time came to get dressed the next mornign he did so with style, sliding into his socks with a wide smile on his face, putting his pants on without stumbling over them. Even nature seemed to be on his side, for when his head popped out of the collar of his shirt his hair reappeared looking better than it did most mornings _after_ brushing it.

The walk to work was pleasant. He bumped into people, spilled coffee on his shirt and therefore had to change, and accidentally dropped his keys. It was freshening.

His first interview was only a couple of minutes after his arrival. A woman who introduced herself as Hilda came into his office, dressed top to bottom in Chanel, and the whole progress felt very professional. This was a woman his boss had recommended to him and he could immediately see why. She was experienced, very much willing to help and seemed to know even more than Grantaire about the topic of his work. If that wasn't enough already, she had also managed to charm Grantaire's socks right off when she expressed her dedication and respect for this line of work. All in all it was even better than he had hoped. When she left, he couldn't help but smile from ear to ear, leaning back in his chair. Hopefully the rest of his day would go as well as the first one. Or hopefully not. He probably would've had a hard time choosing between so many professionals.

It was that moment, right when Grantaire had gotten his body relaxed and loose for the day, when _he_ walked in. All of a sudden Grantaire immensely regretted not getting his sleep for the night. There was no way his brain could ever keep up with _that_.

The man who had stepped into his office looked like he had been clipped out from one of his company's magazines, long blond hair whipping at his shoulders as he walked, face tilted up in such determination that it could've made a grown man weep. The sharp jawbones, the plump lips, the freckled nose. It was too much for a poor sleep deprived man to take in, especially all at the same time.

“Wow. How? Huh. Hi, uh?” he asked, and when the man in front of him pulled a face of confusion Grantaire did not blame him the least bit. He himself wasn't even sure what sentence he had been trying to get out in the first place. Thus he tried again.“Hi, yes, I'm sorry. The models are actually down the hall.” he pointed outside the door in the opposite direction, grinning calmly at the man.

“Oh?” that heavenly creature wondered, eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Uh, actually, I'm here about the assistant job.”

“Really? That's nice. Tell my something about yourself?” never had he realized just how important proper sleep was to basic human interaction. He had to shake his head slowly, suddenly gesturing to the seat opposite his. The man – who in closer encounter looked more like a boy – walked towards him, such power in his step that Grantaire already felt compelled. “So, where are you from?”

“France,” replied the boy as he sat down, running a soft hand through his blond curls.

“Amazing.” Grantaire sighed, smiling hazily. They sat there for a couple of seconds in silence, listening to the New York morning traffic, before Grantaire even realized that he was expected to continue. “Was your life in France a good life?”

The boy's eyes were staring into his so deeply, he felt as if he were taking a look straight into his soul. Not that he blamed him, as far as job interviews went this one was getting real personal real quick. “Uh, yes. It was decent.”

Everything that had gone so well in his previous interview seemed to fly out the window, along with Grantaire's pride. Hilda who had been there before this boy had been so easy to talk to, he'd shoot out questions and she'd reply in absolute ease. This boy had stolen all of his common sense. The worst part is that he felt like he was missing something huge.

A couple of seconds later it suddenly came to him like a smack in the face. “Oh, shit, I forgot to ask, what's your name?”

“Nicolaus Enjolras.” replied the man, face scrunching up in distaste as he spoke the first name.

“Amazing.”

Grantaire would later blame all this questionable behaviour on his lack of sleep. At this moment, he seemed to once more forget the point of this interview. He was supposed to get to know more about this guy, this Enjolras, to see if he qualified for this job. Thus, he found himself needing to speak once more.

“Well, uh-huh, go on.”

The boy stared at him for a second or two before he spoke, neither voice nor face giving away any emotion. “That's it. That's my whole name.”

“That's your whole name. Of course, obviously, excuse me.” he found himself saying, looking around the room in order to figure out the quickest way to escape if needed. “Well, you have a résumé, don't you? I feel like maybe it's time to take a look at it.”

This time he could see Enjolras slightly hesitate for a moment, looking a bit sheepish. “I feel like I should let you know that I'm not very experienced.”

“Very experienced in what?” Grantaire's eyes widened, enough that it would probably be quite amusing to see from an outside point of view.

“You know, in an office.” the stranger explained, shrugging slightly as he handed him the piece of paper. Grantaire let out a nervous cackle, hoping that Enjolras didn't understand his previous reference. “Actually, my experience in all things office related is pretty much none?”

“Oh, no worries. You've got a nice list here of...” Grantaire trailed off, clearing his throat, reading the title of the list. He had to do a couple of double checks and almost freaked out a little each time before relaxing himself. “... a very nice, long, list of jail convictions. Vandalizing government property four times, yelling at a bypassing stranger and then proceeding to do so to the police when they scolded you, starting six riots, using obscure language in public in order to try to stop making sex an embarrassing topic, yelling at a stranger in the National History Museum for 'being absolutely wrong' …. setting guard on fire.”

“ _Accidentally_ setting guard on fire, I believe it reads.” said Enjolras, keeping his face neutral.

When Grantaire looked closer at this stranger he noticed that there was absolutely no shame in his expression. He seemed to accept the idea of spending a couple of nights in jail without even blinking, and whether that was pride or stubbornness Grantaire could not tell. Either way it was enough to leave him speechless

“But I'd of course be on my best behaviour if I ever were to work here...” Enjolras tried to shoot in, in hopes of making this at least a little sensible. “And I'm very eager to learn and a very determined student.”

For a second Grantaire just kept staring. On one hand, this guy was absolutely nuts. On the other hand, he did seem very sincere about this. And he was _very_ pretty. After Grantaire's couple of seconds had passed he held up his index finger.

“Okay, just hold on a second, please.” Grantaire said, and then he was reaching into the cupboard behind him. He returned to the table with a big Polaroid camera and quickly snapped a photo of Enjolras. “Sorry, it's for Human Resources. Everybody has to. Would you stand up?”

The male stood up, not catching on to that obvious lie, seeming confused but yet determined. And god damn it the expression he had on his face made him look like he was about to go to war and Grantaire was not supposed to find that hot but he _did._

 _I am eternally screwed,_ Grantaire thought to himself as he snapped another picture of the boy.

 

Grantaire did not go home after work. He never does. He goes straight to the coffee house across the street. All his friends always met up there after work. When he arrived, everyone was already sitting at their little table, leaning comfortably back on the sofa placed in front of it. He looked them over, a frown on his face. Oh, how he wished he didn't have this burden in the form of a blond stranger sitting on his shoulder.

“Combeferre, I need your help.” he blurted out, slumping down on the first chair he could in self-pity. “Today there were these two interviews I had. So in the first interview there was this lady and she seemed really nice? And she was super professional and very good at her job? Had many recommendations?”

“Okay, keep going.” his glass eyed friend ushered, setting his newspaper down on the table.

“But then there was this guy?” Grantaire said helplessly.

“What about him?” Joly who was sitting right beside him asked, looking up from the book he had in his hands. Grantaire let out a sigh and stood up as if he was going to say something very important, but then slumped right back down into his seat.

“I love him.” he whined, putting his face in his hand. Courfeyrac came running towards them at high speed with his stupid little boyish grin, having heard them a mile away. His run from the counter had been short, and so he stopped in front of Grantaire right in time to hear his next words. “He was so hot guys, you have no idea. Honestly, I swear to god, would he have looked me in the eye and asked me to escape with him to an island in the middle of nowhere to start a new generation of human beings I would have agreed without a second thought.” he paused for a second to breathe, and then his expression was sad again as he half whined his next words. “He's so pretty, I want to cry.”

“I suppose you want my opinion on this.” Combeferre sighed, eyeing him in judgement as he started sipping on his coffee. It took him a moment to reply, always one for the dramatic flare. “Obviously you don't chose an assistant just because they're pretty! You have to hire the first one. She's probably been looking for a job for a really long time! She knows what she's doing, R.”

“Don't listen to him, Grantaire.” Courfeyrac butted in. “Imagine all the things you could get that guy to do.”

“Combeferre, I absolutely am on board with you. Your words of wisdom always manage to blow me off my feet.” he said, ignoring Courfeyrac and nodding sincerely, a couple of their friends groaning in disappointment. “However, can I just say one more thing?” he asked and Combeferre immediately nodded in encouragement. Grantaire fished a hand into his pocket and pulled up the photo he took of Enjolras. “Look how pretty.”

“Let me see.” Combeferre sighed, rolling his eyes. His mouth was set in a loving smile as he accepted the picture from Grantaire, but as soon as he looked down on it his expression turned dead serious.“Oh, my god.” It would be quite comedic hadn't everyone been busy being shocked at this reaction their friend was giving. Combeferre never showed any sort of interest in people, never impressed with anyone or anything enough to voice it, so everyone immediately knew that the guy on that picture must be the real deal. Combeferre even had to take a few seconds just to stare. “Oh. Wow. But _no_. Grantaire. First of all, you can't hire him because it's not professional! Second of all, assistant managers are supposed to be much older than that! This guy is like half your age, isn't he?”

Grantaire let out a hopeless sound. “I didn't even think to ask. I was too intrigued by his everything!” Before Combeferre got the chance to look at him in disappointmen he dug into his bag, fishing up the résumé he had been given earlier that day. He looked at the ID number on the page and smiled widely. “Oh, he's not too young! He's twenty-one! That's not little, is it?”

“Little for the job you are thinking of hiring him into, Grantaire.” Combeferre said, but his eyes still lingered on the picture.

Courfeyrac, the bastard, was known for being nosy, so he didn't even try to hide it as he sneaked a glance at the picture, the suspense killing him. He immediately ripped it out of Combeferre's hands, eyes wide. He stared at the photo for a long time, swallowing loudly a couple of times. After a second or two he cleared his throat. “Um, this is for me, yes?” he asked, gesturing to the picture and then quickly moving to put it into his pocket.

Grantaire sighed loudly, just to be sure that every single one of his friends would know _just_ how unhappy he was about this. “Alright, Combeferre, you win. You're right. You're always right. I'll hire the woman tomorrow. That dumb, old, perfect-for-the-job lady.”

Marius, who had previously only been listening in secrecy suddenly cleared his throat and looked up. “Let me see this guy.” he said, gesturing for the photo. Courfeyrac reluctantly fished the picture from his pocket and handed it to Marius. Marius, the only male in the group everyone knew for sure was straight, had let out an embarrassing sound as soon as he got a look at the photo. “Wow-hah-how!”

Everyone stared at him as he stared at the picture for a couple of seconds straight, holding it as gently as one would hold a baby.

“Don't show this to Cosette.” he said after about a minute, gesturing to the photo. Then he made a small displeased face. “And don't tell her about the 'wow-hah-how'”

The kid was looking absolutely frightened at himself for his own reaction to this guy. Poor, straight, Marius.

“I'm literally right here.” Cosette piped up from beside him, looking at him unimpressed. Then she ripped the photo out of her boyfriend's hand, taking a sip from her coffee while at it. She paused sipping mid-way through, setting her cup calmly down.“Marius, I give you complete permission to do whatever you want with this guy. Although I would very much appreciate it if you'd invite me along.”

 

A couple of days later Grantaire was running through some papers when a knock came on his door. He looked up just in time as the door was opened. The second he saw the guy standing there he had to keep himself from yelling out loud in agony.

“So, I hope this isn't weird but I brought you flowers.” Enjolras said, awkwardly rubbing at his neck. “I know that I come on strong to people, what with my meter long prison record and all. I also noticed that you don't have any plants in your office.” the he looked around, a blush soon spreading over his face. There, in the corner of the room, was the huge fucking plant Jehan had given him when he got his first office. “Wait, there _is_ a plant in your office.”

Grantaire, in panic, half ran in front of the large plant (which was almost equivalent to a fucking jungle, how could the kid not have noticed it?) and tried to block it with his body. “NO! No plants here! In fact, a plant is exactly just the thing I needed.”

Enjolras stared at him strangely, standing still for a couple of seconds. Then he sent him a side-looped, confused, smile. “Okay, then.”

The golden god, as Grantaire had over the days come to realize he was, slowly walked up to the table and put the plant gently down. After that the awkwardness was back, and the boy stood there unsure for a minute.

“So, I guess you hired somebody.” Enjolras finally said, filling in the silence. “And that's amazing. Just, I hope they're not an ex convict?”

Yes, was the answer to that. He had in fact hired somebody. That old lady. But looking at Enjolras there just completely caught him off balance. Grantaire would blame it all on anxiety later.

“Actually they are an ex convict!” he close to yelled, grabbing the plant behind him for extra support. “I hired you!”

Enjolras immediately narrowed his eyes, cautiously eyeing Grantaire. “Wait, what?”

“Yeah, you got the sob. The job.” he said, trying to be happy but sort of tripping over his words at the end. The boy proceeded to stare at him for what felt like a whole nerve-racking minute.

“... you must not have read my résumé.” the male said, scrunching up his nose.

“I did! And you- you got the job!” Grantaire repeated, smiling widely. Could Enjolras see the panic in his eyes? The call for help in his smile? “Oh, first thing I need you to do is to go down stairs and find a lady named Hilda. Then you tell her to go home.”

Enjolras seemed to be just about to say something but then stopped himself before he got the chance to let it out. He abruptly turned on his heel and walked out of the office. As soon as he stepped a foot through the door he turned around and sent Grantaire the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

“Thank you.”

Then he was off. Poor Hilda, Grantaire thought. She had been a really nice woman, really qualified for the job. But no matter how much she deserved it he couldn't find it in himself to feel bad, even though he knew that Combeferre would give him a hard time for it. And probably Feuilly too. He'd probably talk about how hard it was to get a nice job and how that woman had worked really hard for it. Grantaire's argument would be that obviously they had never seen Enjolras smile before.

 

When Grantaire arrived at the café after work that day he went straight to the counter to get himself a large, black, Irish cup of coffee.

Back at their usual table sat his group of friends, chatting lightly. Courfeyrac was sitting on the floor this time, in front of a cross-legged Jehan who was sitting in the sofa and rubbing softly at his shoulders.

Courfeyrac, sensing Grantaire's presence, was the first to speak, eyes still closed in comfort. “Hey, Grantaire. How did your – oh, Jehan, could you please apply more pressure right there – how did your assistant react when you gave her the job today? Was she happy? She better have been, you know, you sacrifised a beautiful creature in her place.”

“Oh, totally. My new assistant is very happy that I hired my new assistant.” Grantaire replied, sitting down in his seat nervously. His main focus was not to look Combeferre in the eyes.

Suddenly Grantaire's phone started ringing, and Eponine who had taken a seat on the arm of his chair reached straight into his pocket and picked it up. Before he got the chance to protest she picked it up and answered sweetly. _Oh,_ she was _so_ onto him.

“Hello!” she chirped, standing up and walking over to where Bahorel was sitting, grinning so widely that Grantaire knew she had nothing good in mind. “Oh, wait a second!” she looked up at Grantaire, smile growing even wider. “This is Enjolras. He's asking 'when you said wear something red, what exactly did you mean?'. Oh, wait, he also asks 'are we talking about sweaters or something?'”

Grantaire, his stupid impulse getting the better of him, replied immediately. “More of something like a jacket. Red is a good colour. Professional colour. Tell him that.”

When he realized what he had just done he stood up abruptly, ripping his phone out of Eponines hands and hanging up on Enjolras.

“Hey, I've got to go guys, in quite a rush. See you later!” he whipped out of the café without a second glance.

 

Going to work next morning was the most pleasant thing Grantaire had done in a long while. Well, the most pleasant thing he had done since finding out about his raise. He had woken up with a smile, dressed into his clothes with a smile, ate his breakfast with a smile, brushed his teeth with a smile (that didn't go as well as planned). He had even smiled at the rude stranger who had almost tripped him at the subway.

When he arrived to his office, walking into the small hallway, he noticed that Enjolras was already there. That made him smile even winder. The younger male was staring at the phone in determination, almost sizzling.

“How is this staring competition between you and the phone going?” he asked tentatively, not sure if he should come closer or admire from afar.

Enjolras immediately turned in his seat, hair whipping in front of his eyes, and he grinned sheepishly. Grantaire took that moment as a chance to look him up and down, almost falling to the ground when he noticed the red jacket. The absolutely perfect red jacket. This was how his life was going to end, and he wasn't even mad.

“I'm just trying to think of what I will say if somebody calls the office.” he explained, as if that made it all obvious.

“That is amazing.” Grantaire whispered, and he when he looked at Enjolras he wasn't quite sure whether he'd heard him or not. So instead of finding that out he reached down and softly stroked the jacket, because obviously that was definitely not going to make things weirder. “Very nice choice, where'd you get it?”

“Oh, this is actually an old one I had.” Enjolras explained, smiling softly. He didn't seem to be bothered, or even notice, that Grantaire still had a hand on his arm. “It's actually a favourite of mine. Always use it to...”

“Stir up trouble?” Grantaire asked with a grin.

Before Enjolras could even think of an answer, or a better way to word the answer, two men walked into the office grinning widely. Grantaire knew that he was bound to be damned, but did it really have to happen at that exact time? He and Enjolras were having a moment.

For a second Grantaire stood absolutely frozen, hand still clutching tightly on the fabric of Enjolras' coat. Then he turned around quickly, staring at his friends like a deer caught in headlights. Enjolras, at Grantaire's sudden behaviour, also stood up, eyes wide.

“Hi, uh... Grantaire's office?” he said, flickering between Grantaire and the other two who seemed to be in a competition of who could stare harder.

“Réne.” Grantaire whispered, coughing loudly to cover it up.

“Réne Grantaire's office, how can I help you?” Enjolras finished, smiling widely. And _god damn it,_ Grantaire had not seen him smile with his teeth before. At that moment he really just wanted to cry from overstimulation.

Courfeyrac smirked as he took the boy in, elbowing Combeferre softly in the stomach. “Actually, there are a couple of thing you could do for us. First of, we'd like you to take off-”

“I'm Combeferre.” the glass eyed man interrupted, holding out his hand. “And I'm guessing you aren't Hilda.”

Enjolras took the man's hand gingerly, clearly not catching on to Courfeyrac's crude beginning of a joke. “No, no, I'm not Hilda.”

“No, this is actually Enjolras. Enjolras the one beside Combeferre is Courfeyrac.” he then turned to his friends, loudly clearing his throat once more. “Guys, can I talk to you for just a second?”

“Oh, please.” Combeferre said, looking him straight in the eyes. Courfeyrac on the other hand was quite reluctant to go, standing behind while the other two got into Grantaire's _proper_ office.

“So, Enjolras.” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively, although the younger did not seem to understand the meaning behind it. “That's a really great name.”

“You honestly think so?” the latter asked, slightly taken aback. Poor boy had probably always been teased for his name. The older could sympathize. What the fuck kind of American names their child Courfeyrac, anyhow? “And, thank you, yours is very nice too.”

“Oh, you like that? You should hear my phone number.”

A hand reached out of the office, grabbing Courfeyrac's arm and pulling him inside.

“Come on, Grantaire, I was on a real roll out there!” whined the man as he stepped in, closing the door behind himself. That was definitely the best pick up line he had come up with in _ages_ and Grantaire had just tore it down mid thunder.

“With my assistant?” Grantaire asked incredulously.

“Absolutely!”

“Well, that shouldn't matter to you, Grantaire. You know, since you can't be with him, now that you're his boss.” Combeferre scoulded, frowning deeply at Grantaire.

“I don't know about that, seems kind of kinky.” Coufeyrac said, grinning devilishly. “Grantaire obviously just hired himself a little treat.”

“No, hey, okay.” Grantaire had to calm and collect himself before continuing. “I know how this looks, but I'm telling you-”

“You can _not_ get involved with your assistant, Grantaire. Not ever.”

“I know that. And I also know that hiring him might have not been the smartest thing I've ever done, but let's be real, at least it's better than half the other stupid shit I've gotten up to in life. And I swear to god, from this moment on our relationship is strictly professional.” the man explained once again, leaning back against his desk.

Courfeyrac gave him a slow wink. He really shouldn't have been expecting anything else from the likes of him. “Of course. _Strictly professional._ Well, hopefully _strictly professional_ won't mind me barging in, would he?”

Right at that moment Jehan, who worked alongside Grantaire and Cosette in the office building, slipped inside. This was only going to go downhill.

“You hired the super cute assistant!” Jehan exclaimed, smiling widely. He hadn't seen the big deal about the whole thing earlier. He, as a faithful romantic, thought it was absolutely beautiful that Grantaire had such deep affections for this stranger that he would be willing to give him such a personal spot in his life. He had obviously taken Grantaire a little too seriously when he had exclaimed that he was in love with the blond haired boy. On the other hand, Grantaire also knew that Jehan had come with something else in mind. He obviously thought the guy was hot, and Jehan was quite the lover himself. “Is he...?”

“Straight?” Grantaire asked, wanting to escape at that exact second. He just had to do _something_ to keep Courfeyrac and Jehan from preying on his new assistant. After all, Grantaire had seen him first so if he couldn't have him, nobody could. “Yeah.”

Jehan gave all the room a sympathetic look before laying the papers he had in hand on Grantaire's table and casting his hellos and goodbyes before walking back out. Grantaire shrugged apologetically at his friends, and before they got the chance to inquire him further, he walked straight out of the office.

 

It had been a big mistake. It was not supposed to happen. But everyone seemed to take interest in Enjolras and Grantaire couldn't help himself. When girls would walk up to him, shy smiles on their lips to ask him about his new assistant he always told them regrettably that he was gay, but when the males asked him he seemed to blurt out that he was straight. Everything was already a chaos, and this was only Enjolras' second day.

When the boy himself walked into the office his hands were clasped tightly together and his mouth was set in a tight line.

“So, I got asked out nine times today.” he explained, staring at Grantaire in confusion. “By four girls and five guys. You- you didn't happen to tell anyone anything, right?”

“No, I- definitely not!” the man exclaimed, standing up quickly enough that he almost managed to throwoff all the things he had on hisdesk in one blow. “I wouldn't. I don't even know your preference.”

“Well, I prefer guys, if that's what you mean...” the boy trailed off, once again finding himself standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. “But if you'd be kind enough to tell them that I'm not interested... that'd be great.”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Grantaire said, heart slightly speeding up. He swore to god, sometimes he felt like he was back in high school.

“Good, nice. It's really good to know that you now know this thing.” Enjolras said, then huffing loudly in annoyance at how uncoordinated his mouth was at the moment.

“Oh, and why is that?” Grantaire asked, heart about to break out of his chest by this point. Enjolras didn't answer him, only blushed instead and grinned cheekily.

“I really shouldn't say.”

“Oh, yes, you should. I want you to feel like you can talk to me about everything.” Grantaire told him, smiling right back. He reached over, tapping the opposite end of the deskin a friendly manner and gesturing to the chair that stood there. “What's on your mind?”

Enjolras hesitantly walked over, slowly sitting down.“All right, well, you have a really interesting friend. That Courfeyrac?” he waited for Grantaire to nod (a nod that he was having a really hard time to deliver). “Well, I think he's quite cute.”

“Yeah?” Grantaire asked, his smile freezing on his face. He sincerely hoped he didn't look like the convict in the room at that moment.For a moment, Grantaire weighted his options. Either he could tell the kid the truth, let him know that Courfeyrac was always on board with a little bit of loving, but on the other hand he felt too offended at his best friend to let him have the pleasure of Enjolras. “Well, I hate to tell you this, but he's as straight as an arrow.”

“Really?” Enjolras asked, nose crunching up in confusion. That might be just the cutest thing the older man had ever seen. “He seemed a little... never mind.”

“Yeah. Absolutely. Practically the only thing he talks about.” he said, doing his best solemn expression.

He sincerely hoped, from the bottom of his wounded heart, that Enjolras couldn't see through it. Couldn't see the little murderous image in his eye of him throwing Courfeyrac out the window the next time he stepped near his office.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually my first fic in this fandom ever. So it might be a little off? Sorry.  
> Hope you liked it though!


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